Day thirty-eight of my 365 Day Writing Project.
Time: 40 minutes
Today was not a very productive writing day. I guess I’ll have those sometimes. It was tough to pick up the story where I left off because I wasn’t sure where I wanted to take it. I also got a very late start which did not help. Exhaustion was thick. Motivation and creativity were thin. After very little time I realized that I’m probably better off breaking and picking it up again tomorrow.
Despite it being a short and uninspiring writing session, it wasn’t all for naught. It isn’t anything special, but in the interests of reminding myself later that even the tough days are worthwhile, here is a paragraph I wrote a little while ago:
Mike looked around one last time and pushed open the back door. In the low, late afternoon sun he stepped out onto the street. The frigid air turned his breath into small, white puffs of cloud, prompting him to button up his coat. As he did, he noticed the long, ominous shadows cast by the nearby buildings. It was getting late. He looked left and right, at a loss for where Skylar and Ben would have gone. About four hours had passed since they had been there; they could be anywhere. Mike walked back to the door of the restaurant and turned around to face the street again. Imagining himself fleeing from someone, he tried to figure out which direction they might have run. He took off straight and then turned to the left, jogging down the sidewalk. Seeing all of the buildings and intersecting side streets ahead of him, he stopped. It was no use.